HatS oFF to raF

win­ter show was steeped in the “teen raF Si­monS’S spirit”, a vari­a­tion cap­tured in the scrawled– on white lab coats of con­ti­nen­tal fresher haz­ings. The cat­walk it­self was raised up high, and there were no seats and no front row. Peo­ple stood where they felt like it and the am­bi­ence was like a hap­pen­ing di­vorced from the usual peck­ing or­ders. The trousers swept the floor, too long for a grow­ing teen body. The clothes looked patched to­gether, un­fin­ished, or in non–lux­ury fab­rics, reek­ing of those dark, tur­bu­lent, un­tamed teen years.